


Bloom

by captainat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Girl-Who-Lived, Hurt/Comfort, I might make slight changes to magic system, Manipulative Dumbledore, Mentor Severus Snape, Slow Burn, Trigger warnings in each chapter, description of abuse (dursleys), iris is written to portray a different reaction to the dursley's abuse, mostly she is very tired, sue me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25495735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainat/pseuds/captainat
Summary: Left with an unloving family after the death of her parents, Iris Lily Potter does what she must to get by. Being practically a slave to her relations, she is relieved to receive an invitation to attend Hogwarts. Her discovery of her witchcraft, however, became bittersweet when she understood the horrible circumstances that preceeded her. Still, she knew it was a way out of that house, at the very least. She soon found that ignorance is bliss, and knowledge gave her power she never wanted. Unfortunately for her, she knew she must utilize her extraordinary magic for the greater good.That doesn't mean she has to be happy about it, though.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Iris Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is something I have been wanting to write for ages. I know this chapter is short, but I'm really trying to gauge interest in this particular realm of the HP fandom. Feedback and criticism is greatly appreciated! I hope you enjoy!  
> Trigger warning: descriptions of bad coping skills, mentions of abuse

Iris Lily Potter felt the familiar disquiet of her predicament as she awoke into a groggy summer day and began her preparations for what lay ahead. She knew she had few precious moments to spare before being put to work by her aunt and uncle. Determined not to waste them, she pulled a bedraggled notebook overflowing with extra papers and annotations. Fishing a pen from a cigarette carton she had repurposed, she flipped to the next empty page, and began writing.

 _I am Iris Lily Potter,_ she wrote. _I will survive this terrible day._

Iris was quite angry as a child, as she grew up in a horrid environment, and often found herself caught up in what she might do had she the power to stand up to her relations with any success. She learned at an early age to keep it quelled in her home to avoid more belittling from her relatives. Because of the strain it put on her to do so, she had found she had replacement outlets for her emotions. Her go-to was writing, where she felt that if she put her thoughts onto the page then she might lock them away so they could not bubble up under the repeated stress put onto her. Sometimes, unfortunately, her writings did not pacify her adequately. When the Dursleys occasionally let her roam free around the sullen suburb, she found herself in schoolyards and underpasses, expelling her anger by assaulting various concrete walls. She always worried the Dursleys would notice her bruised and bloodied hands, but, she reasoned, they did not care for her in the first place. They might even be pleased.

Drawing herself from such thoughts, Iris shook herself and pulled on the wretched hand-me-downs from her _Ickle Dudleykins_. None of them fit, naturally, but she had managed to salvage an old turtleneck from Dudley’s early years and several worn jumpers that were comfortable enough. She worried she would outgrow the turtleneck, but somehow it seemed to fit like it was tailored to her. She was perplexed but accepted it as a small mercy regardless.

Shoving her wire-frame glasses ungraciously on to her face, she unlatched the door quietly, intending to start early on breakfast for the Dursleys as it would save her from their taunts. As she prepared the pan for frying bacon and tomatoes, she happened to glance out of the kitchen window, and noticed the cluster of owls flying through the morning sky. Mildly intrigued, she filed this information away for analysis later. For now, she needed to be sure she didn’t make mistakes in her cooking, lest she be on the receiving end of Vernon’s belt once again.

She must have jinxed it, she though, as she heard that man’s fat footfalls on the stairs.

“Potter,” he spat. “If you ruin this meal, you disgusting ugly brat, you will go without meals for so long you forget the meaning of the word.”

Iris suppressed a sigh as Vernon bustled into the kitchen, being sure to knock her ‘accidentally’ with his elbow as he reached for the coffee. She was used to his threats and was glad it had not been worse for her. He must have been in a relatively good mood that day.

Iris knew she was the Dursley’s personal punching bag and grimaced at the reminder that she was powerless. She forced her mind blank as she finished plating the meal and left the room to collect the mail. Iris was good at compartmentalizing her thoughts. She wasn’t sure if it was natural or acquired in her time with the Dursleys. She did not allow herself to think on it. As it was, she had very few prospects for the future, with not being in school or even a vocation academy, and had long since accepted that her miserable residence at the moment would give way to a miserable existence in the world. She would work in retail to her grave, she thought.

This grim outlook was what made her next discovery even more jarring.

It is odd that sometimes, when one is in the depths of hopelessness, the world has a way of righting itself and bringing one up with it. In what she later believed to be atonement for her life thus far, she experienced this phenomenon on the day she received her acceptance letter from Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.


	2. The Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris ponders her letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AARaven14, this one is for you! I'm so sorry for the long wait, school started up again and promptly overwhelmed me. But, I found time to write the second chapter! It's a short one, but now the plot can really start developing. I hope you enjoy! Once again, questions, comments, and criticisms are welcome.  
> Content warnings for canon-typical abuse.

She stood there, staring at the letter addressed to Iris Potter, the Cupboard Under the Stairs, and wondered why the Dursleys had gone to the trouble of such an elaborate joke. After all, who else knew she was confined to that blasted cupboard? Not anyone who had enough tact to help her, at least. Not wanting to give the Dursleys the satisfaction of knowing their prank was received, she pushed the letter through the space between the cupboard door and jamb and continued back to the kitchens. If the Dursleys expected her to buy this pathetic display of their antics, they were even bigger fools than she’d thought. She put the letter from her mind and pushed through the rest of the day as best she could.

The Dursleys had her working the garden despite, or perhaps because of, the climbing temperatures. She didn’t want to nurse a sunburn for the next week, so she left her hair down. It was warm to the point of being suffocating, but she pressed on. When the garden hose backfired upon her, soaking her upper body, it was a blessing, though not quite worth the welts she had from Vernon’s belt for the mishap. She took what she could get, though. After the garden they set her to deep cleaning the entire downstairs, solvent burning her hands and making her eyes water. When the floors were sparkling and her hands practically raw, she was finally allowed to stop, only to be condemned to washing dishes from the Dursley’s dinner. They had eaten all the food and, since they only ever gave her their scraps, there was nothing left for her to eat, so she sneaked a banana into the waistband of her ragged trousers. The moment she was finished, she beat a hasty retreat to her cupboard, which was of course noticed by Dudley, who did his best to punch her as she passed. 

With a new bruise blooming across her face, she began her nightly routine of documenting the day’s affairs, recording her new injuries, and making a note of the letter she received. Just as she finished jotting the final word, the letter flew up and hit her square in the nose with a little plop. Huh, she thought, I’m not sure the Dursleys are quite capable of that. Making a cursory check for any thin wire they might have used and turning up nothing, she looked again at the letter. The envelope was made of an unfamiliarly sturdy card stock she had not seen in the house before. Pushing her doubt aside, she tore it open to reveal even more unfamiliar handwriting. It read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY  
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)  
Dear Miss Potter,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.  
Yours sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress

Staring at the letter, Iris’ mind began to rapid-fire thoughts at her. Witches and Wizards? Surely this couldn’t be real. A thought niggled at the back of her mind. Remember the unexplainable things that have occurred around here? This is your explanation. Cautiously, she considered her options. Believe the letter was real and risk the Dursley’s amusement or discard the letter and risk it being real. She figured she had nothing to lose in assuming the letter was genuine and considered her next steps. An owl? Where would she find an owl? And why such an odd request? Glancing up at the clock, she saw that it was approaching midnight. The Dursleys would be long asleep by now. Making a quick decision, she jiggled the lock free from it’s latch and slipped out, tiptoeing to the front door, and escaping into the night.


	3. Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris reaches Diagon Alley in the early hours of the morning.

The cool night greeted Iris as she emerged from the Dursleys house. The moon was bright and waxing crescent, highlighting the cookie-cutter houses that lined the street. Iris took stock of her surroundings, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, and certainly no owls. She wondered what she should do next; undertake the task of looking for an owl, or trying to find someone or something to find it for her? Just then, a light came on in the house across from Number Four. Thinking quickly, Iris shot behind a bush lining the curb just as the door to the house opened.

“Iris? Is that you?” A distantly familiar voice called.

Startled, Iris asked, “Mrs. Figg?”

“Yes, dear!” the woman in question said. “Now, come along inside, it's far too cold for a little slip of a girl such as you!”

Bewildered but grateful, Iris emerged from behind her bush and tiptoed up the path to Mrs. Figg’s. Beckoning her in, the woman shut the door behind her. 

“Er- sorry for intruding, Mrs. Figg,” Iris stuttered. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it dearie,” she said. “And it’s not about what you can do for me, but what I can do for you?”

Iris stared quizzically at the older woman. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“I thought you’d have gotten your Hogwarts letter by now,” Mrs. Figg said. “Do you have it with you?”

“What?” Iris said, astonished. “How d’you know about that?”

“I’m a squib, dear,” Mrs. Figg said in answer, further confusing the young Potter. “Now, you should really be getting your supplies. No time like the present!” she said, ushering Iris towards the fireplace.

“Wait- hang on! Supplies? Where? You mean to tell me this is all real?”

“But of course!” Mrs. Figg said, handing Iris what seemed to be sand. “Aren’t I living proof. Now, step into the fireplace and clearly say ‘Diagon Alley,’ then you’ll be able to get your supplies!”

“But, wait, please, Mrs. Figg. I haven’t any money!”

“Oh, I almost forgot! Here you are,” she said, handing Iris a key. “Now, first you’ll want to head to Gringott’s, the bank, to get your money, then around to all the shops. Your letter can tell you where. I’m sure the wizarding world will be so happy to have you back. And, if you need anything at all, send an owl.”

_ Bloody well likely,  _ Iris thought,  _ given the trouble I’ve had finding one for Hogwarts.  _ Before she could think on it any further, however, she heard Mrs. Figg shout something and found herself being whipped violently through time and space.

* * *

Landing with a quiet  _ oomph _ , Iris found herself in what seemed to be a rather quaint pub. Taking stock of her surroundings, she found she was sat right in front of a different fireplace. Quickly righting herself, she saw the pub was empty save a few dark figures sitting in its various corners. There was no barkeep to be seen. Thinking back to what Mrs. Figg said, she found none of that information applicable to any part of the situation she was currently in. For the second time that night, she found herself totally and completely lost.

Consulting her limited knowledge of social procedures, she decided to try and locate the barkeep. Stepping up to the bar, she tried and failed to locate a bell to alert them to her presence. She settled on knocking quietly on the bar. Still, no one appeared. She then called out a quiet ‘hello? to the back area of the bar. And, nothing. Again. Just as she was about to give up, a figure appeared suddenly out of nowhere. 

“‘Ello,” the man said. “Can I ‘elp you?” 

“Oh, hello. Could you help me find Dia...Diago…”

“Diagon alley?” the barkeep supplied.

“Yes! That.”

“O’ course, Miss. Can I ask your name?”

“Iris. Iris Potter.”

The man stared at her in bewilderment and...amazement?

“Iris Potter? Well I’ll be. Wait right here, there’s someone who’s waiting for you.”

The man left the bar, stepping into the main pub area. Confused, Iris was about to ask more of the man, but a cool voice spoke behind her.

“Hello, Miss Potter. A pleasure to see you again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys, I need your help!! Should it be Snape who brings her around Diagon, or another Hogwarts teacher? I can't decide if their first meeting should be now or at Hogwarts. Feedback is greatly appreciated!


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